Page 56 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
She shook her head.
He looked about, then strode across the footbridge, through the passage and to his chamber. Empty. It was dark in the cave pool. Emerging into the great hall, he asked harshly, “Where are Finn and Catherine?”
Brows drawing together, she let out her breath in a rush. “They’re gone, your lairdship. We assume they followed our men to be of assistance to the rescued lads.”
“But ye don’t know?” he demanded, knowing his voice was harsh, but unable to help himself.
“The mistress’s favorite horse is gone. Torcall went after them, and his orders were to send word back or come himself if he didn’t find them with our men. Otherwise, we were to assume they were all together.”
“Assume?” He pivoted away from her, running a hand harshly through his hair, dislodging his queue. “Do ye even know where the shipment was headed?”
She shook her head. “We couldn’t leave the cave undefended,” she added quietly.
“I know.” He gritted his teeth and forced himself to take a deep breath.
It didn’t help calm him. He felt panicked, helpless, fearful of what Catriona had gotten herself into. He’d taken advantage of her for his own ends, manipulated her emotions. By allowing her to think he trusted her, that he was completely open with her—had he just been creating some kind of fantasy where they could be together, even after all he’d done? He was merely lying to himself. She was an innocent, who’d be with her family if Duncan hadn’t taken vengeance into his own hands.
Chapter 13
Duncan passed one of the most tormented nights of his life. Catriona was out in the world, possibly alone, risking herself for his mission—without his protection. How had such a monster as Aberfoyle raised such an incredible woman? Or perhaps he’d been a neglectful, remote father, and she’d been all the better for it. Or maybe her head injury had changed her into the woman she’d always been meant to be. Duncan had rescued her, aye, and they’d grown close, though he’d resisted. But he hadn’t resisted hard enough, and now he felt trapped, his insides twisted with emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time—if ever.
He cared for the children he rescued, had been appalled that anyone would kidnap innocents. He loved his sisters, and lived in fear that his exploits would bring harm to them. But none of that compared to this all-encompassing obsession with Catriona.
It was well after supper when a guard returned with news of a party approaching. Duncan strode toward the cave entrance.
“Laird Carlyle,” Maeve called, “ye should wait to be certain ’tis our men.”
Though she was right, he couldn’t wait. He went out into the cool night, the sky pink and purple above the absent sun. With his arms across his chest, he waited until Torcall, the advance rider, came through the trees.
Duncan caught the horse’s harness to keep him still, then confronted the panting man. “Is Mistress Catherine with the riders?” he demanded.
Torcall nodded. “She is, your lairdship.”
Duncan told himself his relief was only so great because Catriona was his responsibility. By ones and twos his men came through the overgrowth which hid the entrance to the cave. Near the end was Ivor, with Catriona and Finn beside him. He expected Catriona to look embarrassed, but instead it was Finn who met his gaze briefly, uneasily, before looking away.
Catriona dismounted with the grace of a born horsewoman, rushed toward him, her smile exuberant, before coming up short.
“Duncan, the most wonderful thing happened,” she cried, then briefly covered her mouth before lowering her voice. “We rescued three children and have already returned them to their families.”
He felt a chill, imagining what might have happened if she were recognized.
“I didn’t get to see the reunion myself,” she said, her expression growing shadowed as if a cloud had crossed it—and as if she’d read his mind. “Ivor insisted I remain well away. I was very safe,” she added. Eyeing him, she hurried on. “It wasn’t a whisky shipment, of course. Ivor told me he’d never take me to where they store the casks, even if I was curious.” She finally broke off.
“Are ye done babbling?” he asked coolly.
She swallowed, then looked around and realized that they were almost totally alone. He could still hear the men at the paddock, and the last of them took the mare’s reins right from Catriona’s hand and headed toward the path.
“I can take care of him,” she called.
“Nay, ye cannot,” Duncan said. “Ye’ll be speaking with me for a good long while.”
Instead of getting abashed or defensive, she linked her hands together and regarded him calmly. “Would ye like a report from me, rather than Ivor?”
Again, he noticed the Scottish creeping back into her speech, and imagined two days with his men had contributed to that. Two days alone with a group of rough men. He could have shaken her.
Of course, she’d spent two weeks in a cave with a group of rough men. But he’d been there to watch over and protect her. But he hadn’t protected her from himself.
“Nay, I’ll leave the report to Ivor,” he said. “’Tis words of explanation I need to hear from ye.”
